Old as Dirt

I think I’m getting old.  In fact, I know I am.  Today I’ve watched the many students file past my office window, making their way from one building to another, bags slung across their shoulders and skinny jeans paired with flip flops and tunic shirts that look very reminiscent to the ones I wore in high school.  What I find so interesting is that almost every single person walking along is either on a cell phone or has ear buds dangling from their ears, tethered to an iPod or anther such device.  Very few are walking with their heads up, most looking down at their feet, almost like they can’t bear to connect with another human being.

I wonder why so many of these people would rather gaze at the sidewalk instead of holding up their heads, walking confidently forward.  Is that a sign of what this generation holds in store for us?  Are they missing out on the social interactions that can come their way?  It seems to be just one more wall to shun the society of others.  Heaven forbid they should smile and say hello.

That is why I am old.  I don’t understand the need for skinny jeans, because who would look good in a pair of jeans like that at my age?  I don’t understand the constant connectivity.  Even though I am a digital fanatic, and love my devices, I also realize how the real world can get shut out.   I don’t understand the loss of human connection.  With so many avenues, Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, e-mail, texting, we should be more connected to those around us, right?

What about the lost art of handwriting a note?  I saw an article in a magazine yesterday that touted the virtues of a well made stationary and fountain pens.  Have I gone so far down the path of digital madness that I wouldn’t be able to pen a letter to a friend or loved one?  I do enjoy spending time at the Moleskine stand in Barnes and Noble, so I can’t be all that far gone can I?  One is always in my purse, right next to my iPhone.

Why am I old?  I guess I’m starting to sound like my mother.   I often start a conversation with my children, “When I was your age…” I hated when my mother did that.  If anything, I’ve begun to appreciate those words of wisdom and the nostalgia that she provided for me during my own youth.  I will continue to think about the events that changed the world during young life, such as the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Space Shuttle falling from the sky, and the invention of the World Wide Web (which is funny story in and of itself.)  I realize that most of the students walking outside my window never lived in a home where a microwave wasn’t always sitting on the counter, or had a car that took gas that was “regular” versus “unleaded”.    I look at my own children and they will never experience doing a research paper without the help of the internet or use a typewriter to finish it off.

So today I will feel old, and that is okay.  I am entering into a new period in my life, where I will be the eccentric one that shakes her head at the skinny jeans and secretly wish she had the body to pull it off.

*Thanks Google, for the image*